Chapter 4 #2
He reaches over and gives my hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry to be focusing on the wrong thing, it’s just such a shock . . . the business with Ruck. How are you feeling about it?”
This is more the Bas I know. Curious about my reaction to something before even getting all the details.
“Still slightly sick to my stomach,” I say. “I’ve always prayed I’d die without ever hearing his name again.”
“Do you think what he said might be true?”
I shake my head. “No, definitely not. The information about the two other missing women is true—the police have already unearthed their remains. But the part about Melanie has to be a lie.”
“Because . . . ?”
“Because all the evidence says he did it!”
“And he was found guilty, of course.”
“Well . . . not specifically for Melanie’s death.”
“What do you mean?” he asks.
I’ve shared bits and pieces about the story with Sebastian—you don’t start a new relationship and leave out the fact that your daughter was brutally murdered—but I’ve also stuck with a decision I made from the start not to do a big information dump.
Beyond despising the idea of rehashing everything, I worried it would be both a burden to him and weirdly toxic to our relationship.
He was better off not knowing every detail, especially the more gruesome ones.
And yet we can’t be talking about this now without me offering more. I take a quick sip of tea before continuing.
“He was tried in Plattsburgh, New York, a city about two and a half hours north of where Mel went to school, for the rape and murder of two college students—Sailor Abbott and Amanda Kline. Sailor went missing in early September, right after the school term started, and her body was discovered by hunters in a wooded area a few weeks later. Though the police had DNA from the semen, it didn’t match anyone in their system.
But they got incredibly lucky with the next murder in the area—in early November.
A cop spotted Ruck on the road and thought he looked suspicious, so he decided to tail him for a while and caught him trying to dispose of Amanda’s body in the woods along the road.
She’d been killed the same way Sailor had, and the police matched Ruck’s DNA to Sailor’s body. ”
“How does Melanie fit into this time frame?” Bas asks, his brow furrowed.
“He murdered her in between—in mid-October—when he’d gone to stay with his sister in Cartersville, supposedly to help her pack up her house but probably looking for a fresh killing field.
The police had no real suspects initially, though Mel’s ex-boyfriend was on their radar for a while.
But after Amanda was killed, one of the state police in the Cartersville area got wind of the cases up north and connected all the dots.
We ended up attending parts of the trial. ”
Bas’s expression darkens even more. “Oh, Bree,” he says. “It pains me so much to think of you going through this . . . So why was he brought to trial for the two Plattsburgh murders but not for Melanie’s?”
I let out an anxious breath, wishing I could table the whole thing, but I’m already in knee-deep.
“The local prosecutor we dealt with felt it was better not to rock the boat. It appeared Ruck tried to assault Mel sexually but wasn’t successful, so there was no DNA or, for that matter, any other forensic evidence linking him to the crime.
The prosecutor was worried that with only circumstantial evidence, she wouldn’t get a conviction, and that might muddy things. ”
“But the police were positive he’d done it?”
“Completely. Ruck’s cell phone proved he was in the area when Mel died, though he’d been smart enough to leave it at his sister’s house that night.”
I take a few seconds to steel myself.
“Plus,” I add, “the MO was the same. Mel was first struck in the head with a heavy object, the same way the other girls were. And the pattern marks on her neck indicated that she’d been repeatedly strangled with the same type of ligature used on the others. A dog leash.”
Bas winces. “God, Bree, I’m so sorry. But it sounds like there’s little room for doubt that Ruck was the guy.”
“Exactly, and yet the New York State Police are looking at the files again, and who knows what will happen from there.”
He scoots closer and wraps an arm around me. “Please, how can I help?”
“You already have, just by listening,” I say.
He looks off, clearly thinking, and then returns his gaze to me.
“But you’re still worried, I can tell. You think that the cops will decide Ruck didn’t do it.”
With that simple statement of his, something lets go in me. That’s exactly what’s worrying me, and whatever dread I’ve felt since Logan’s visit isn’t going to dissipate simply because he’s ridden off in his rental car.
“Yes. And even though I know Ruck did it, if the cops start having doubts about their original theory, those seeds of doubt will soon end up with me. The little bit of closure I’ve had will be eaten alive. And I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering, never knowing for sure.”
Sebastian nods and takes a few seconds before speaking again.
“You know what I think, though? I think that the seeds of doubt are already with you.”
He’s right.
“I can’t let them take hold in me, Bas,” I say. “I can’t.”
“What if you call the lawyer yourself?” he asks. “Maybe he has some information that he didn’t put in the letter. It could help clarify things, even bring you peace of mind.”
The idea of hearing Schmidt’s voice again nauseates me, but Bas is right. I need to do it.
And I need to do it now.